The Shivering Isles
by Spades Neil
Summary: A little prologue of a wondrous place known as the Shivering Isles. It's a one-page short story I thought I'd post for the fun of it.


**The Shivering Isles**

"Blessed are the madman," saith Lord Sheogorath. Within the shores of a magical place known as the Shivering Isles, lies a kingdom dedicated to the most insane of the mortal realm. This is the world that the mentally twisted went when they died. However, it was not heaven, nor was it hell. It all depended on the minds of those who dwell in it.

On the northern side of the island was Mania. It was a cordial place filled with lush shades and hues, strange creatures, and the most joyous Manics who ever lived. There was not a care in a world for them as they indulge themselves in all manner of cravings their human nature once desired. Wine, food, sex, parties, and sometimes just lazing about all evening, enjoy life and acquiesce to their world. Still, it was not a perfect world. The side of the island called Mania had its flaws. All of these people were the kind that were _too_ happy, _too_ indulging, and often _over_ indulging, many of whom die a second time from their overdoses on the spoils of life.

On the other side of the island, to the south, lay the gray, muggy, foggy world of Dementia, where paranoia and masochism ruled. The residents of Mania vex the Demented greatly. The two factions didn't agree on a thing aside from their hatred. The Manics would abash their Demented neighbors, complaining that they should enjoy themselves and relax. The Demented felt the Manics to be nothing but frivolous nuisances. The Demented were always paranoid, their indisposed ventures from the safety of their homes was always accompanied by the everlasting fear of being stabbed in the back, if not seeking another to stab instead. There was always a conspiracy to keep things exciting. However, while the Manics allowed their follies to entertain and plague them, the Demented were ironically a very intellectual group. They fancied all manners of curiosities, and even had a museum dedicated solely to the oddities of the Shivering Isles. In a world of madness, to find an oddity _here_ was truly an achievement indeed. It was not uncommon to find the residents perusing through the exhibits, finding the strangest of the strange.

In the capital city, New Sheoth, the boarder between the isles met with two cities called Bliss and Crucible, for Mania and Dementia respectively. Bliss filled its city with the colors, shapes, and unique designs of the rest of its half of the world, but its stupidity accompanied it. The unique structures were not always a wise idea, and sometimes came crashing down when a large party rocked the foundation, or set fire. Meanwhile, Crucible was clouded beneath eternal overcast, its gray Victorian buildings clustered close in the most claustrophobic manner, the sewage spilling onto the lower pathways, and the whole place looked ready to rot. Yet, there was always a sense of certainty and intellect in their world, even while the paranoia and violence haunted them. Some even _enjoyed_ the predictable yet ever-constant changes in Dementia, and unlike the Manics who didn't notice or didn't care, the Demented always watched and recorded the day-to-day differences in the world.

In the center of it all, at the castle its self, was the Demi-God of it all. He was called by many names, Prince of Madness, Warden of the Asylum, and Lord of the Never-there. However, the sheer insanity of this king dwarfed that which even Shakespeare could imagine, belittling King Lear, or Prince Hamlet. Meanwhile, his contradicting, twisted nature turned the darkest novels of Poe into short stories comparable to those of children's fairy tales! This omnipotent figure had total rule over the isles and everything in it, but his personality was absolutely unpredictable. One day he'd summon a dancer to amuse him in his throne room, and shower them in gold, or even dance with them! On other days, he'd cast a spell upon them and teleport them high above the islands and watch them fall to their deaths instead. Sheogorath was a cruel and kind ruler, a bizarre combination, but to bestow his blessings upon these madmen was to give something they had never received in life;_ a place they belong._

"Blessed are the Madmen, for they hold the keys to **secret knowledge**!" saith Lord Sheogorath.


End file.
